Second Son
by heyyyyyybrother
Summary: AU. Starts where the series starts off but Ryan is Sandy's son. Sandy had a one night stand with a stranger early on in his marriage producing a son about a month older than Seth. Ryan is raised thinking that Frank is his father and Sandy doesn't find out Ryan even exists until his mother abandons him at juvie. Contains mentions of child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Slightly AU. Ryan is Sandy's son that he never knew existed. Both he and Seth are sixteen. Sandy and Kirsten also have a four year old daughter, Rosie. It otherwise pretty much starts where the series started. I think I explain most of the other AU stuff throughout the story. If not, I'd appreciate comments on what's not clear or any kind of constructive criticism. Story goes back and forth between Sandy's perspective and Ryan's perspective. Sandy's first.

Disclaimer: I don't own the OC or its characters.

* * *

Sandy had tried his hardest to push aside the idea of having a second son. He couldn't count the number of times he had told himself that there was no reason to worry until the paternity test came back. What were the chances anyway? He wasn't even sure if this "Atwood" woman had been the one he had had the one night stand with. He was drunk. He was upset. It was a mistake.

He knew it was a mistake the minute he sobered up. Sleeping with a stranger had been a mistake and considering divorce after one fight with the woman he loved was a mistake. It was less than a month after Kirsten and he had made up, less than a month after their temporary split and his drunken mistake, that Seth was conceived.

Sandy didn't want to think about the fact that he may have slept with a woman who would abandon her teenage son in jail instead of taking him home. He didn't want to think about the kind of son that woman would raise. He couldn't think about what was going to happen if he suddenly became the sole caretaker of a sixteen year old stranger. He couldn't and he successfully stopped himself from letting any scenarios linger in his head. He had avoided worrying about it until the social worker called and he didn't have the option anymore.

* * *

It had been weeks since Ryan had his cheek swabbed. The juvie doctor muttered something about DNA when he had asked about it. Ryan wasn't sure why they needed his DNA. His lawyer had said that the case was closed. He and Trey were caught red-handed. DNA wasn't going to prove anything further. He let himself forget about it.

* * *

Sandy told Kirsten immediately when he got the call requesting the paternity test. She, too, had refused to worry about it. Sandy had the feeling that her tactic was born out of denial but hoped that it was all a mistake and it wouldn't become a problem. Now that it officially was Sandy's problem – _their_ problem – they had to deal with it. At least Sandy did. Now his wife was avoiding him and his son wasn't speaking to him. His four year old on the other hand was completely indifferent to Sandy telling her that they might have a houseguest for a few days.

* * *

Ryan had tried his whole life to not imagine what jail would be like. One of his earliest memories was watching a neighbor get dragged, screaming, into the back of a cop car. He didn't remember why the man was arrested, but he did remember his mother telling him between puffs of a cigarette that he would die locked in a tiny cell. He had even more reason to wonder what it would be like when his father got carted away, but by the time it happened the year before, Ryan was smart enough to not let his mind wonder.

He was glad he hadn't wasted his youth imagining what he was now going through. It wasn't the worst kind of hell Ryan could imagine, but it definitely wasn't any kind of vacation. The guards didn't beat him as much as his father had but the other inmates harbored a different kind of aggression than his father had. Ryan wasn't sure if they were really more vicious or if he was just upset that he was getting beaten up by boys his own age without Trey to protect him.

* * *

The drive to the juvenile detention center is almost two hours. Sandy finally lets his curiosity get the best of him. Where did Ryan grow up? How come his mother never contacted him earlier? What was he like? Was he a hardened criminal?

Sandy considered picking up Ryan's file before going to the prison but decided against it since it would be an extra forty five minutes out of the way. He convinced himself that it was more important to get to Ryan and see for himself. He immediately regrets his decision when the desk clerk tells him that Ryan may not be released anytime soon because he was in solitary confinement.

The social worker told Sandy that Ryan had been caught stealing a car, but hadn't said much else. Sandy called the man twice, with no answer, before someone finally came out and said that they had begun to process Ryan's release and then another eight times, with still no answer, in the following four hours that Sandy sat and waited for his new son to emerge.

* * *

It hadn't been Ryan's first time in solitary. He was usually sent there for "fighting." He wasn't sure whether the guards always stuck him in because they personally hated him or if it was to protect him from getting picked on and beaten up. When the guards let him out, they don't lead him back to the other boys.

They lead him back to his empty cell. He knew it wasn't protocol but hoped it wasn't a mistake. He would much rather sit alone in his bunk and read than sit with everyone else for "activities." Ryan stares at the man hovering in the doorway when he says "Get your things." He must have stared for too long because the guard felt it would be okay to shove him to the ground. "You're dad's here to pick you up. You're going home." He gathers his things up as slowly as he thinks he can without making the guard angrier.

His dad was supposed to be in jail. Why did he get out so soon? Why was he the one coming to get Ryan? More importantly: what was he going to do to Ryan when they got home? Ryan stopped while walking down the hall and turned around to ask the guard if he could just stay in and fell to the ground. Two boys had tackled him and began punching. The guard got revenge for Ryan taking so long to pack his things by taking his own sweet time to pull Ryan out of the mess.

His father's punishment was going to be severe, but at least he knew what to expect from him. He wasn't sure he could take getting jumped by random kids for no reason for much longer. Hobbling, he follows the guard the rest of the way without saying a word.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews, guys!

This one starts from Ryan's perspective.

* * *

They finally reached what Ryan assumed to be the final door. The guard held it open for him as Ryan tried to hide his limp. He diverted his eyes downward and waited to hear his father's voice. It isn't until he has to gasp for air that he realizes that he was holding his breath. And that it his father should have said something before he ran out of air.

Instead of hearing his father's voice, he heard someone else call his name. He glanced up, not recognizing the voice. The guard who brought him to the room – the waiting room apparently – was talking to the woman behind the desk. There was another man in the room, but his father was nowhere to be seen. Ryan looks back at the floor trying to figure out what was going on when his name was called again.

* * *

When Ryan looks up, Sandy gets a full view of his face. His eye is bruised and slightly swollen. He has cuts on his chin, cheek, and forehead. The one on his chin is still bleeding. "What happened to him? Is he okay?"

"Got into a fight," said the guard, still gripping onto Ryan's arm. So he was violent.

He looked pretty banged up for someone his size that was "violent." If he was violent, wouldn't he not be getting hit so much? Sandy wanted to ask more questions. But he didn't know what to say to anyone. He can't very well back out now and ask the guard to just take him back inside. For the first time in a long time, Sandy was speechless.

He watched as Ryan almost fell over when the guard let go of his arm with (what looked like to Sandy to be) a little shove. Ryan was handed a clear plastic bag with some things in it.

"What's going on?" The voice sounded angry, but quiet and shaky. He was still staring at the ground almost as intently as Sandy was staring at him.

"You're father's taking you home." The receptionist sounded bored as she gathered papers together. Ryan took a good (decent) look around the room, still keeping his eyes low.

"That's not my dad."

"I'm Sandy Cohen. Your biological father." How had he been handling the news of his new father? He had obviously been raised by another man. How long had that guy been around? His whole life? Had his mother ever told him about Sandy? Ryan finally looked at Sandy fully, in the eyes. He had Sandy's eyes. Confused eyes. "The DNA test. It came back positive."

He didn't really know what else to say. If Seth had ever looked this confused, Sandy would have been able to fix it. Or Seth would talk it out himself and know how to fix it himself before leaving Sandy.

"Sir. Sign here please." Before Sandy made his way to the counter, Ryan lowered his eyes again. He could see Ryan's brain silently trying to work out what was just said from the slight profile he was shown of his bowed head. Had he already forgotten about the DNA test? They did give him the test, didn't they? Did they have the wrong kid?

No. His last name matched the one the one the social worker had given him. And he had Sandy's eyes. And his jawline. And Seth's nose. It obviously wasn't the DNA test that had made the mistake. He turned accusingly to the woman behind the desk.

"Did no one tell him what was going on?"

"That's none of my concern, sir. Please sign here."

"I'm your father. Biologically. The DNA test they had you do was for that. Did no one explain that to you?"

* * *

Ryan slowly shook his head once and then stopped because it hurt. He stopped himself from flinching purely out of shock.

Who was this man? This wasn't his father. Was his father really not his father? How did he just let the DNA test slip his mind without asking anybody what it was about? He had figured it had something to do with stealing the car. DNA evidence or something.

He heard the woman talk again but didn't hear what she said. She sounded annoyed though. He saw the man move out of the corner of his eye. Ryan stepped back and steadied himself. He had taken a swift kick to the knee in his latest attack.

* * *

Sandy watched his new son stumble backwards as he moved past him to sign the damned form.

"They did give you a DNA test, didn't they? A couple weeks ago? A blood test? Or some kind of swab…?" Sandy asked, just to be sure. A quiet "yeah" came from Ryan and an angry "Sir" came from the receptionist.

He signed angrily before the woman did something horrible like call the guard to come take Ryan away.

"Can I get the number of someone who does know what the fuck is going on then?" She grabbed a business card and held it out without even looking up. She had what she wanted out of him. Her business wasn't with them anymore, but with her magazine. "I'm sorry no one filled you in, but I'm going to take you home. You can't stay here. We'll try to figure everything out in the morning, okay?"

The teenager flinched so violently when Sandy put his hand on his back that he thought he was going to fall down. He pulled his hands back up in a sign of harmlessness as he regained his balance, a gesture he wasn't sure if Ryan even noticed.

* * *

Ryan glanced back at the woman behind the desk almost pleading for help. He didn't want to go off with a stranger claiming to be his long lost father. He had a long lost father. He shuddered at the idea of his own father being there. He would have probably already dragged Ryan out of the room into the hall and smacked him a few times. Was a stranger better than his own father? He glanced up at the man again who had taken a step back and was just staring at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Thanks again for all the follows and reviews, guys. I was gonna try to post every Monday, but I'm currently roadtripping/camping for the next month or so. I'll try to be as consistent as possible, but I'll pretty much just post whenever I get some wi-fi so bear with me. 

* * *

Sandy noticed the boy shudder. Was he cold? Did he have a concussion? Broken bones? Who had beaten him? Had he really gotten into a fight? Was he really violent? The way he kept his head down and backed away from his touch, he couldn't be violent. Right? How could Sandy's son be violent? What kind of environment would he have had to grow up in in order to have his gene's and a violent personality?

He wanted to ask all of these questions, but he didn't. He couldn't. He could barely stand near the boy without scaring him? But was he scared? Or was it something else?

"Why don't we get out of here and then we can talk?"

* * *

Ryan didn't see any other options than to obey his new 'father.' What was he going to do to him? Could it really be worse than his real father? Could it be worse than jail?

The man could kill him. So could his father. So could jail.

He walked through the open door to the hallway that the man held open. He moved out of the older man's way but just stood there waiting., not having any idea where to go next. There were signs on the wall that had arrows pointing to the "EXIT" but Ryan knew from experience that things would go more smoothly if he waited for instruction. Maybe if he treated this man with the same caution he treated his real father, he would be okay.

* * *

Sandy followed his son out the door and saw that he had stopped. There were clear signs in front of both of them directing them out of the building, yet the boy just stood there. Would he rather have been left in jail? Did he find the boys he fought inside less intimidating than Sandy?

He cautiously walked around the boy and started leading the way to the car. He glanced back to see Ryan following him slowly with his head down. He thought he noticed a limp so he slowed his pace discretely.

He opened his mouth and then closed it. And again. He didn't know what to say next. How could they not tell him why he was taking a DNA test? How could they release him to his biological father without telling him that he had a biological father? He obviously had another one. He regretted not stopping at the case worker's office on the way over so he could have spent the six hours mulling over his file. But then he probably would have gotten to the prison over an hour later and would be getting Ryan an hour later, if they would even release him at such a late hour. It was seven already. They probably weren't supposed to release him except they had started the process so early.

"I can't believe they didn't tell you what was going on."

* * *

The voice was loud and it sounded angry. Ryan was too tired to listen to the specific words right away. He immediately stopped and got ready to defend himself against an attack while the words bounced around in his head.

It wasn't angry directed at him. He heard the man, his new father, quietly mumble 'sorry.' He heard the man's footsteps again and glanced to see that he was walking again. Ryan focused on his feet and followed. They were nice shoes. Nicer than his real father ever wore. But was the man who beat on a regular basis his real father? Or was this man? Was there just some huge mistake? There had to have been. But should he say anything about it? If this was a ploy of some pervert or serial killer, would questioning it just make things worse? Or would it be safer to ask before they left the confines of the prison? They were too far away from the guard and desk clerks and inmates for any of them to do anything to stop what was going on. It would be better for him to wait until they were outside so he could try to run if he needed to, not that it looked like he would get very far with his knee.

* * *

Sandy opened his mouth a few more times only to shut it. The teenager was so startled at his voice, it made him nervous. He had been a little loud. Maybe Ryan had just been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he jumped at Sandy's voice. Maybe. But he turned to see him following as quickly as he could with his bruised face facing down, staring at the floor.

What kind of teenage boy acted that way? It made his stomach turn. What had his son's life been like these past sixteen years? Sandy knew virtually nothing about his mother. They reached the door to civilization and he went first, holding the door open for Ryan.

"The car's that way." He pointed to the left. Thankfully, he hadn't had to park too far from the door. They would drive out of the gates. "The blue one." He made sure all of his words were softer and quieter than before, but the silence was killing him. He had to break it somehow.

He handed the paper work he had received earlier to the guard who scrutinized it.

"Look up!" Sandy jumped himself at the guard's loudly barked order. He looked over to Ryan who had obeyed, quickly. As the guard took his time to compare Ryan to his picture, Sandy took the opportunity to study his son's face. Blood was now smeared over his chin and cheek. He kept his face and the rest of the muscles in his body still and his eyes straight ahead, but Sandy noticed how quickly his chest went up and down. He was terrified. Or on drugs? Or scared of getting caught by the guard because he was doing something wrong? But what could he have been doing wrong? No, the guard had just scared him just like Sandy had. Twice already.

* * *

No matter how confused or upset Ryan was over whatever was happening, he knew that he had to obey the guard and that he had to do it quickly. He learned on his first day what the repercussions were for not. Even though it was almost a month ago, he was, as the guards had promised, taught a lesson he would never forget.

He could feel his father's eyes on him. Not his father. This stranger. But what was the stranger's name? He didn't even know. He wondered if this man was going to be like his father where it didn't matter how nicely or quickly obedient he was. Or if he would be like the guards and leave him alone if he was good. Ryan guessed that the guards really only left him alone because they would get in trouble if they didn't have a reason to beat him. But who would stop this stranger.

"Ryan?" The voice wasn't the guard's. Ryan looked over at the man who had said his name and took a second to study his face, it didn't look angry. It looked just as confused as Ryan's own probably did. It even had his own eyes. "Come on."

Lights flashed and caught his attention. It was the car he was about to get in. It wasn't falling apart like most cars he had ever been in. It looked normal. Just like the man's face. It even smelled normal, not like cigarette smoke and vomit. Ryan watched the gates to the prison pass in the side mirror and heard the man he was with give a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

Sandy had never been so happy to leave a place in his entire life. But now what? He glanced at the young man sitting next to him who was diligently studying the glove compartment handle.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" He had startled Ryan, but he didn't look as scared as he had the first few times he had spoken. That was progress, right? Ryan didn't answer him, though. "You look pretty banged up."

He saw Ryan shake his head out of the corner of his eye and sighed inwardly. He knew he could speak. He had heard Ryan's voice when he tried explaining that Sandy wasn't his father.

"I'm fine." It was a quiet, deep voice. Raspy. Sandy relaxed immediately. Sandy was a talker. So were Seth and Rosie and even Kirsten. Having Ryan talk, even if it was only two words, made the entire situation seem less daunting.

"Listen. I am really sorry for how all of this is going. I had no idea. I mean, I just found out about it all this morning. Are you all right?" The boy was still silent, but was now staring at him. Also a good sign? Or maybe just an indication that saying two words wasn't an invitation for the nonstop chatter Sandy normally produced.

* * *

Was it really that easy? Was this man really as unthreatening as he sounded? Ryan stared at him wondering. What kind of serial killer rambles when locked in a car with his victim? He didn't even remember what the older man's name was.

Thankfully, the he repeated it. It was Sandy Cohen.

"Sandy?"

"Yeah. Short for, um, Sandford." Ryan looked away. What in fuck's sake was going on? "You can, um, call me that. Are you okay?" The man was really waiting for an answer this time.

"I'm confused."

"You and me both, kid." Was he really? Was it some kind of ploy?

* * *

Ryan stared ahead, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He had given Sandy something: confused. That was a step in the right direction. And Sandy had responded by merely agreeing with him. The poor kid.

At least Sandy had 'control' in the situation. He almost laughed out loud. He had more control over Ryan, but that didn't mean much. He had no idea who he was bringing into his home or what the next couple of days would bring. But he was the adult. He had more information than Ryan had. Barely, but still.

"I got a call from your social worker about two weeks ago. She said that your mother had given her my name and said that I was your real father and…" Sandy paused. Did he really want to tell this poor, confused kid that his mother didn't want him? "She said that she wasn't going to pick you up. The social worker told me that you didn't have any charges pressed against you so they were going to let you go, but they couldn't let you go on your own. They needed to sign you over into someone else's custody. I mean… I'm surprised your mother even remembered my name. It was a very brief… encounter." Sandy glanced over to see Ryan looking down, his cheeks turning red. Not appropriate. "I never saw her again."

He stopped to let it sink in. That was basically all Sandy knew. Now Ryan had just as much information as Sandy did. Maybe more. Was Ryan going to let him in on his part of the story?

"Are you Trey's dad too?" Sandy heart stopped. Could he really have _two_ sons he never knew about?

"Are you and Trey twins?"

"No…" Sandy held back a sigh of relief.

"Then nope." He glanced over. It looked like Ryan understood. "Trey's your brother?" Ryan nodded. "Where is he? Is he with your mother?"

* * *

Ryan shook his head.

"Jail."

"And your father? I mean… You grew up thinking someone else was your father?"

"Jail."

Ryan was embarrassed. He was always embarrassed when he had to tell someone that his father was in jail. Now he had to add his brother to the list. All the talking, the confusion, and pretty much the last four weeks were wearing him out.

He would have given anything to just lay his head back and sleep the rest of the way to wherever they were going, but that was just it. He had no idea where they were going. He had no idea who was driving the car. He had no idea if this was just a big mix up and Ryan was going to have to deal with a completely different situation in the morning.

If he made it to morning.

He stared out the window. Maybe he should just jump out of the car once they got off the highway.

* * *

Sandy didn't know what else to say. Well, he knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to know why Ryan was in jail and where the bruises came from and what his past was like and if he had gotten along with his brother and his father and why was his brother in jail and why his father was?

His other father. The man who had raised him. What was he like? Sandy tried to think of something else to say, of something else to focus his mind on but couldn't.

"Did…" How to phrase the question? He didn't want to pry. The boy had barely said anything at all; it was too soon to pry too deeply into his brain and his past. "Do you and your dad get along?" Should he clarify he meant his other father? He saw Ryan shaking his head. He gave no verbal answer. "Did he…" Know you weren't his? Love you? Take good care of you? "treat you all right?"

Ryan turned his head to the window and didn't answer.


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan crossed his arms. Should he have said something? Should he have defended his father? What was this guy's game?

"Are you hungry? I'm absolutely starving." Were they done with questions? Well, that was a different question. Ryan was hungry. He had been in SHU for his last four meals. If normal prison food was virtually inedible, the shit they served in SHU was literally inedible. "You like McDonalds?"

They were getting off the highway. Maybe he should get out and run at the stoplight. Maybe he should let himself get fed first. He nodded.

* * *

"What do you want?" Sandy didn't receive an answer. They pulled up to the drivethru. Sandy didn't have time to wonder what was on the kid's mind. "Cheeseburger?" Ryan looked out the window. Was he listening? "Nuggets?" He looked back towards Sandy, not at Sandy, and nodded.

Why wouldn't he just talk? Sandy stopped in the middle of ordering and looked at Ryan expectantly but not expecting an answer.

"Coke?" he quietly quipped. Sandy smiled at the small victory and ordered his son a coke.

* * *

Ryan didn't really like coke, but he thought that maybe the caffeine would wake him up a little. He hadn't found any reason to be on high alert besides the fact that he was riding in a car with a stranger, but that was enough for now. His head was pounding, his knee and entire body ached, and every time he opened his mouth he ripped open the cut on his cheek.

Ryan had never lived in a world of comfort, but he wasn't happy about all the pain and uncertainty.

* * *

They drove in silence, eating their chicken nuggets and French fries. The young boy looked exhausted. Sandy wondered if Ryan had ordered a coke to keep himself awake because he was so uncomfortable. Sandy had ordered himself a coffee just because he needed to be awake to drive.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep? We still have almost an hour before we're home."

"I'm fine."

* * *

Where the hell were they going? The prison was only one town over from Ryan's hometown. How was he supposed to get back if he was so far away? It didn't really matter since he didn't have anyone left there anyway. If his mother had wanted him, she would have picked him up from jail, wouldn't she? He wiped the blood dripping down his cheek from opening his mouth again.

* * *

Sandy was shocked that Ryan had managed to stay awake for the entire ride. His look of uncertainty and fear hadn't even begun to fade after he had finished eating. He didn't move a muscle as they pulled into the driveway and parked. Was he sleeping with his eyes open?

"We're here…"

* * *

Ryan snapped out of his thoughts and looked around. The house was huge. Was that a good or bad thing? Ryan was even too tired to ask himself these questions. He followed his new dad inside. His brain told him to look around, but he was too tired to listen to his brain. He focused all of his energy on not looking tired or in pain. And not falling over.

"Do you want anything? Food? Water? Maybe some Advil?" His entire body, ironically, perked up at the idea of a pain reliever. He looked up at his new guardian's face. It smiled. "Advil?" He nodded.

He followed him into the kitchen and watched Sandy grab a glass of water and a bottle of pills and put them both on the counter in front of him.

"There's a bathroom right through there if you want to wash up, too. I'll be right back." Ryan didn't even wait until he disappeared up the stairs before opening the bottle. He popped four in his mouth and swallowed them dry, then chugged the entire glass of water. He pocketed four more pills before closing the bottle. He was thankful to be alone.

He hobbled, slowly, into the bathroom. His face was a mess. He watched his cheeks darken as he thought about how ridiculous he looked in front of another person. He wiped the blood off his face with wet toilet paper and washed out his cuts with soap. Compared to the pain in his knee, the sting was nothing. He washed the rest of his face too. He wanted to shower prison away, but he knew he couldn't stand for much longer.

He opened the bathroom door to find Sandy waiting for him. He wished the Advil had already started working so it would be easier to pretend he wasn't hurt.

* * *

The blood was wiped off of Ryan's face, but it was still marred with nasty bruises. It made Sandy's heart sink. He couldn't imagine Seth being hurt that badly.

"I grabbed you some of my sweats to sleep in. We'll figure out what to do about clothes in the morning." He gave a slight smile, hoping to reassure his new charge.

In turn, Ryan gave the smallest, forced smile Sandy had ever seen. He decided to count it as a victory.

* * *

Ryan wished his new father hadn't lived in such a big house just for the sake of having to walk up stairs. He wasn't sure if he could follow him up without taking an hour and then passing out from pain. He tried to lift himself up the steps by using his hands on the railings, but one of his wrists was pretty fucked up. He gave in to the pain and embarrassment and slowly hobbled up the stairs one at a time. He refused to look up, though, even when he heard a quiet 'Take your time.' He didn't have a fucking choice and it angered him knowing how obviously vulnerable he was.

Sandy showed him where the bathroom was and told him that he was welcome to anything in the kitchen and showed him to his room. It was a fairly boring room, but it had a queen size bed. Probably one of many guest rooms in the giant house. He only nodded when he said goodnight.

* * *

He was in the house now. There was no turning back. He didn't look dangerous. Sandy really didn't believe he would hurt anyone. But he didn't want to go taking any chances. He opened the door to Seth's room and watched him peacefully snoring for a minute. On his way out of the room, he locked his door from the inside. Just in case. And, just in case, he went into Rosie's room and saw that she too was peacefully snoring. He wondered if Ryan snored. He picked Rosie up with her blanket and her stuffed giraffe, Lulu. She barely stirred. He closed her door on the way to his own room.

He laid her on the bed next to Kirsten, locked the door, and got into bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan slept better than he had in months. It was the most comfortable bed he had ever remembered sleeping in, not that that was saying much. The thing that made the room the most comforting, though, was that it had a lock. Sure Sandy probably had a key, but it was still nice have a semblance of privacy.

He stretched in the bed, torn between letting himself enjoy it and letting himself stress over all of his life's uncertainties. His wrist loudly voted for the latter. It had been years since he had broken his wrist, but he was pretty sure this was exactly what it had felt like. His knee, on the other hand, didn't seem to be giving him much trouble. That was nice. Maybe he couldn't fight with his broken arm, but if his legs were fine he could flee if needed. It was still a little sore so hopefully he wouldn't need to flee anytime soon.

He sighed. He was hungry. Sandy had said that he could have anything in the kitchen. He had meant it, hadn't he? Ryan might as well find out. It was easier getting down the stairs with no one watching him. Was Sandy waiting for him in the kitchen? Didn't he have a job or anything? Did he leave Ryan in his giant house unsupervised?

He heard the TV on in a room he hadn't seen yet. Sandy was probably in there. He decided to hobble that way first and see if he would say anything about eating.

To his surprise, not only was it not Sandy in the living room, but it was a teenage boy and a little girl. Did this guy collect children or something? The boy was sitting on the floor playing a video game, the little girl was playing with a couple of dolls on the couch behind him.

"Hey." The boy paused his game and looked at Ryan, sizing him up.

"Who are you?" Ryan answered. Even with a broken wrist, he knew he didn't have to be afraid of this kid.

"Well, according to a DNA test," he paused and glanced behind him at the little girl who was watching him talk, "siblings" he finished. He gestured with his eyes to the little girl. Upon hearing an apparently new word, she stopped what she was doing and turned to the boy on the floor.

"What's a sibling?"

"It's a really awesome person. Anyway. I'm Seth, this is Rosie. Say hi, Rosie."

"No." She went back to doing whatever she was doing and the boy, Seth, rolled his eyes.

"So. There's food in the kitchen like eggs and pancakes and toast. But all of those things require assembly so there's cereal too." They stared at each other for another moment before Ryan walked to the kitchen to pour himself some cereal.

* * *

Sandy walked into the kitchen to see Ryan sitting at the counter, poking at a bowl of cereal. He smiled.

"Hey, kid."

"Sandy." He looked over to see his wife breezing through the kitchen.

"Hey, honey. What're you doing home?"

"Outside. Now." He gave his new son a reassuring smile and a pat on the back that made him flinch so severely, he almost fell out of his chair. He made the mental note of no touching along with one that said his case worker's suspicions about his past were probably right. He rubbed his face and sighed. "What happened to his face, Sandy?"

The Kirsten was angry. Furious. He probably should have woken her up and filled her in on the details when he had gotten home. He sighed.

"I don't know. I didn't ask him."

"Did you ask the people at the prison?"

"Aw, honey. They have no idea what's going on there. If I've learned anything over the last twenty-four hours, it's that that is a terrible place."

"Is he violent, Sandy?"

"Did you see the way he flinched when I touched him? I doubt he is."

"Is that why Rosie slept in bed with us last night?"

"I was just being safe. Overly cautious. Probably for no reason."

"If you have any doubt about him hurting our children, why would you bring him here?"

"He doesn't have anybody else. Look. I just met with his social worker who gave me his file. There's nothing about him being violent in it."

"Why was he arrested?"

"He tried to steal a car." He decided to power right through her inevitable interruption. "I don't think it was his idea. His brother got arrested too but he had a ton of priors for stealing and assault. I think he just dragged his little brother along. There's no real charges pressed against him. Other than this, his record's clean. They didn't even tell him why he got the DNA test or who I was. He's spent his entire life thinking some other guy was his father. He didn't even find out that guy wasn't his biological dad until he saw me standing out in the lobby. I feel awful. He looks like a good kid. I already made him an appointment with Dr. Chu."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"I was gonna ask you. He said less than ten words to me."

"Really? The entire ride and everything?"

"I'm not sure if it's because of the shock of everything or what."

"Well, if he really is your son, he should start talking soon." Sandy relaxed at her joke knowing that he had won over The Kirsten. For now. He still really had no idea who the boy in his kitchen was and he hoped he wasn't going to cause any problems. Kirsten kissed him and walked back inside. "I only stopped by to grab a file so I'm going to head back to the office. It was nice to meet you Ryan."

* * *

Ryan gave a small wave, but she didn't turn around to see it. He swallowed his mouthful of cereal and looked at his new father.

"You have a family." The man looked confused.

"Yeah. Jeez, I didn't tell you anything did I. I'm sorry, kid. This is all really overwhelming for me too. Yes. That is Kirsten, my lovely wife of almost eighteen years and those are our two beautiful children, Seth and Rosie."

Ryan stared back down at his cereal. He was skeptical about being thrown into the house of a strange man, but now he was shoved into the house of a strange man with a wife and two kids. He learned from his stint in foster care that the danger of the situation had now tripled. A husband and father could still be psychotic or perverted, now he had to additionally deal with whatever trouble the rest of the household would bring him, and then he would have to suffer the consequences of their actions and lies from his 'father.' He wondered when he would get to go home to his mother and why she had put him in this situation in the first place.

"When you finish up eating, why don't you go get dressed so we can get going to the doctor?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Daddy!" From sun up to sun down, Rosie was a ball of energy.

"Hey, angel. Did you say hi to Ryan?"

"No. Daddy!" Sandy sighed. He was not a fan at how his son's antisocial snarkiness was wearing off on her.

"Seth hid Lulu from me!"

"I did not! Lulu took a nose dive into a bowl of cereal and I threw her in the wash." Sandy watched his new son walk over to the sink, pour out his milk, and rinse his bowl. He sighed. It was a nice gesture, but just another reminder that he hadn't had the same upbringing as Seth had and Rosie. Neither would have cleaned their own dishes without being harassed.

"Come on. Let's go see if we can find Lulu in the laundry room." Before following Rosie to the laundry room, he waited for Ryan to start up on the stairs. He wanted to watch him walk all the way up, make sure he would make it. He had struggled so much the night before, what if he fell? Sandy didn't need any more problems on his hands and neither did Ryan.

* * *

Ryan tried to walk up the stairs as normally as possible. It was easier than the night before but still no cakewalk. He stopped. He couldn't hear anyone around. He couldn't see anyone from his spot on the stairs. That meant no one could see him.

He gingerly turned around and sat on the stairs. He used his good hand and his good leg and his butt to push himself up the rest of the way. It was much faster and much less painful. He just hoped no one would be around to see him do it if he had to continue.

He didn't want to go to a doctor. Did he have a choice? It was too early to start arguing with his new father. The man had fed him and given him a comfortable bed to sleep in. So far, things looked bright. Ryan new that would never last.

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room, Sandy tried to be discrete when he looked at Ryan's file to fill out his paperwork. Not only was he embarrassed about not knowing anything about his son, but he didn't know if Ryan saw or knew about the file. Sandy was sure that knowing that there was a collection of his disturbing childhood and that Sandy had access to it would most likely make Ryan uncomfortable.

He still wasn't making eye contact. Just staring at the floor. Sandy finished the paperwork and sighed. Would it be better if he went in with him? Or just worse? Would Ryan trust a strange doctor more than his strange father?

* * *

Ryan glanced over at Sandy when his name was called. He should go, shouldn't he?

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Ryan hated doctors but having two strange men hovering over him in a small room? He would pass. He shook his head and followed the nurse before he could say otherwise.

Ryan couldn't remember the last time he was in a normal doctor's office. He had been to the ER time and time again but unless it was an emergency, it was usually decided throughout his family that a doctor didn't need to get involved. Ryan was fine with that. The doctor was a friendly looking Asian man who asked a lot of questions. He was probably asking just the right amount of questions for a doctor, but suddenly Ryan was tired again and didn't want to answer.

"Look. You can answer my questions and tell me what's wrong or I can go through and check every bone in your body just to be sure. The first option would take much less time." Ryan glanced up at him. He wasn't smiling anymore but he still had an air of friendliness about him. Ryan wondered how much he knew. He decided to speed things up.

"I think my wrist is broken. And I kind of fucked up my knee." The older man smiled again.

* * *

The nurse came out and informed Sandy that they needed to take some x-rays so it was going to be a while. Knowing Ryan wouldn't bust back into the waiting room at any minute, he opened his file back up.

He had to look all the way through it. But did he really? Wouldn't that just be a violation of Ryan's trust? Or something?

No. Sandy just didn't want to have to look through the images and reports of his new son – no, not new, just new to Sandy – being abused. The first report in the file was from twelve years ago. Of course child services are going to get involved when a four year old shows up to kindergarten with a black eye, broken wrist, and no explanation. He did a year in foster care getting shuffled around between four different families.

He couldn't imagine ever hitting a child especially one so young and small as Rosie. And thinking about her getting bounced around between strangers for a year? He couldn't. There were seven more investigations into child abuse finally resulting in another stint in foster care for two years when he was eleven. No more formal investigations after he was given back to his mother, but the hospital records didn't stop.

Sandy tried to be furious at what a shitty job social services did with him but could only be sad.

* * *

Hours later, Ryan settled against the car's headrest, broken arm in lap, almost letting himself relax.

"When do I get to go home?" Ryan wondered what Sandy and the doctor had talked about while the nurse was setting his wrist. It didn't really matter. Sandy took so long before answering, that Ryan looked back up at his face. He looked uncomfortable.

"They can't find your mother." Ryan's stomach knotted. He had finally gotten away from the unsafe zone of the hospital and now… now he couldn't breathe again. Where did she go? Why did she leave him behind? How could she do that? "You're going to stay with us." Ryan almost laughed.

"What? You're just going to keep me? Like a puppy?"

* * *

Sandy sighed.

"Your case worker let me look at your file. And your brother's file. This was your first time getting into trouble, but not his. Kind of looks like, to me, that you just got dragged into it." Sandy stopped and waited for some kind of response. None. "Was it your idea?"

Ryan looked away and shook his head. Of course it wasn't. Now was a good a time as any to bring up the rest of it.

"I saw your other file too."

"I didn't do anything else." Ryan looked towards him, but not directly at him. Ryan seemed to like this move. Did it translate to safety in his old home?

"When child services gets involved with a kid, they make a file. School records, hospital records, criminal records, family history, police reports…" Sandy couldn't see his face. He was looking away again. He couldn't tell what his expression was. He continued. "Your social worker and Dr. Chu both think it looks like you were abused. By your other dad, or real dad, or whatever."

"So?" Sandy's hear wrenched. He didn't know what kind of response he was going to get but 'so?'? That was it?

"I mean. I know I don't really know you since I haven't been in your life for the past sixteen years and the fact that you've probably said less than twenty words to me in your entire life, but you seem like a good kid."

"Maybe that's why I'm a good kid."

"What? Because he hit you? You can't honestly… I don't believe it." Ryan glanced up at him out of the corner of his eye. He did believe it. Sandy wiped his face with his hand. Sandy couldn't believe that that's what Ryan thought.

How many years of drilling that into his head had he had? At least twelve. He felt awful. Sandy thought he might have to pull the car over to throw up.

"Well how about you take some time to prove that you can be a good kid without violence in your life, okay?" He tried to gauge Ryan's reaction, but couldn't. "Because no one's ever going to hurt you in our house. And if I have anything to say about it, no one's ever going to hurt you again." Sandy gripped the steering wheel to control his anger over every person who had ever come in contact with Ryan in his short life and didn't save him from what he went through.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Okay so I'm officially home with much more stable internet access. I'll try to be consistent and update every Wednesday from now on. Hopefully. Thanks again for all the follows and reviews!

* * *

"How's your knee doing?"

Ryan didn't want to answer. He didn't want to listen. He was still trying to calm his emotions. He had too many running at once. Embarrassed to be talking about his childhood and punishments, anger that this stranger was judging his father's parenting, so many others he chose not to focus on.

He heard the car door close. Was he supposed to follow Sandy in to the pharmacy? The car was still on. He stayed. Did he just have a new dad now? A new family? No. That was stupid.

Sandy didn't understand. Soon he would see. But then what? Sandy really didn't seem like the type of guy who would beat him. He was weaker than his real father. So what would he do instead?

* * *

Sandy walked out of the pharmacy, relieved to find his car and son right where he had left them. He smiled to himself. He was a good kid. This would be good for him. A real family, a real home, not having to worry about getting hurt. He drove his son home.

* * *

"Why don't you go sit on the couch and watch some TV? I'll bring you your pills and something to eat?" Ryan assumed he didn't have a choice. He didn't really care.

He hobbled into the living room and sat. What would he have been doing if he was at home? It was almost noon. His mother would still be in bed, his father would be at work, Trey would be out. Ryan probably would just be sitting on the couch watching TV. After cleaning the house, of course. There were five different remotes sitting on the end table. Ryan decided it was best not to touch any of them.

Instead, he watched Sandy's daughter walk across the floor and into the living room. What was her name? It didn't really matter. Well, it did a little. He was going to be living here now. And she was his sister.

He had a sister. And a new brother.

She walked over to him. No, not him. The remotes next to him. She grabbed one and pointed it at the TV. It turned on. She changed the input and grabbed another remote and pointed it below the DVD player. He watched her walk over to large cabinet and open it. Hundreds of DVDs were inside. She walked behind and ottoman sitting near a chair and pushed it with all her weight to the cabinet, climbed up on it, and plucked a movie down from the top shelf. She walked back over to the TV, opened the case, and put it in the DVD player. She grabbed the smaller remote from next to Ryan and climbed up next to him on the couch.

Ryan wasn't sure he'd be able to work the TV like that even if he'd lived here his whole life. She had lived here for four years, had been on the planet for four years, and knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

She solidified her control over the situation by telling him, without even looking over at him, "We're going to watch Frozen."

Her voice was so tiny. Her body was so tiny. Ryan had never spent time around children. She looked so fragile. He would most definitely break her if he ever touched her. He added her to his mental notes of things to stay away from. Unfortunately, she was sitting very close to him. He tried to subtly scooch away from her, but he was blocked in by the armrest. Why hadn't she picked another place to sit?

* * *

Why didn't he ask Ryan what he wanted for lunch? He had no idea what he liked, what he didn't like, what he was allergic to. He had to make lunch for Rosie too. He made her a peanut butter sandwich and threw a handful of grapes on the plate. That was done. What if Ryan was allergic to peanut butter? And what person over the age of ten desired to eat a plain peanut butter sandwich?

He had to make lunch for himself, too. He decided to just make two sandwiches covered in meat and cheese. He could just pick off what he didn't want, right? He put everything on a tray and walked it to the living room.

His heart gave a slight panic when he saw Rosie sitting so close to a stranger, unsupervised. His panic settled, though, when he realized how uncomfortable Ryan looked before he even saw Sandy. He felt awful for even thinking his own son would be capable of hurting a four year old, but he really didn't fully know him yet. He would have to be more careful.

He recognized the previews from a movie he had put back in the case and onto the shelf at least a dozen times. He put the tray on the coffee table and fixed the small mess Rosie had made rescuing her favorite movie.

"Rosie, maybe Ryan doesn't want to watch Frozen."

"Everybody wants to watch Frozen." It was a fact. But did Ryan really not want to? How was he supposed to handle the situation? Seth would have either had some desire to watch whatever Rosie put on the TV, left the room to do something else, or grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Ryan was sitting prisoner in between her and an armrest. Should he move her away? Would that make it look like he didn't trust Ryan around his daughter? Or would he be saving him?

He looked at Ryan searching for an answer in his face. He liked being able to stare at his son after all these years of not knowing he existed. His facial expression was completely neutral, but Sandy watched his eyes follow the characters in the preview around with a quiet intensity. He noticed Sandy staring at him and seemed startled. He figured out what Sandy was trying to get at and nodded awkwardly.

"Whatever. It's fine."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: I know I'm awful! I went out of town again and forgot to post before I left. But to make it up to all of you lovely people, I'm posting this (last week's chapter) now and mere minutes from now, I will have THIS week's chapter up too. Hopefully I can finally be consistent and have another new one up next Wednesday.

* * *

Ryan was wrapped up in the movie before he knew it. He hadn't watched cartoons since he was little and they were never like this. He saw something move out of the corner of his eye and immediately looked up. It was the son and a teenage girl.

"This is Summer, my girlfriend. Summer, this is Ryan. Dad's bastard."

"Seth!" It was unison between the girl and the father.

"What? I thought we were still being discreet around the munchkin." Ryan didn't look up to see anyone's reactions. He just wanted to watch the movie. Apparently Rosie did too. She pushed her finger on the 'volume up' button and didn't let go until her father scolded her. He didn't backhand her across the face, he didn't roughly grab her by the arm, he didn't even yell. He sternly said her name. And she turned down the volume. Ryan was amazed at his father's calmness and the little girl's obedience despite violence. Maybe just the threat was enough for her?

Maybe she was smarter than Ryan ever was. When the volume was back to a normal level, the other teenagers sat on the loveseat together. Ryan cringed internally. He didn't want a conversation whether he be involved or not. He wanted it quiet so he could finish the movie. They didn't talk though, they settled in, his arm around her, and started watching the movie. Did they really have nothing better to do? Or was Ryan's interest in the movie not as unfounded as he thought.

When the credits began to roll, Ryan snapped out of his trance. He noticed quiet noise on the loveseat and wondered how long they had been talking for. The older man had his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, his daughter now laid across the couch with her head on his knee.

She picked up the remote, hit menu and then play. They movie began again.

* * *

"No, no more. It's naptime." Sandy hoped she wouldn't put up a fight. He didn't even want to open his eyes; he definitely didn't want to have to deal with his daughter's scream.

He heard her moan loudly and decided that he was, in fact, going to have to get up and take her upstairs. He grabbed the remote, turned the TV off and picked her up. She didn't give much more of a fight.

"Will you read me a story?"

"Fine, but just one."

"Two?"

"One."

"Threeeee?"

Sandy could barely make it through one. The images of Ryan he saw and the ones he imagined were wearing his brain out. He couldn't rest until he was sure that he would be safe. He found Ryan in the kitchen, carrying their plates. He sighed. That wasn't Ryan's job.

"Hey, kid. How about we postpone you cleaning up after yourself until after you're doing better, all right? I don't want you hurting your knee anymore." He simply nodded and leaned against the counter. "I have a meeting to go to, so I'll be gone for a couple of hours. I don't know if you wanna hang out with Seth and Summer? I mean, you're going to be here for a while so you may as well get to know each other."

Ryan nodded his head only slightly.

"Or you could go hang out in your room? Your mother dropped off some of your stuff with social services. It's in my car. I'll throw it upstairs before I go, okay?"

* * *

Ryan watched Sandy run out to his car. What had his mother left him? Had she planned on abandoning him for a long time? Was she just waiting until she had an opportunity to do it?

He wanted to be by himself. Really, he wanted to go home and be by himself. Too much had changed in a month. He needed to time to think. But think about what? How his father and brother were in jail? How his mother abandoned him? How his mother cheated on his father? How his father wasn't really his father? Did he know it?

He saw someone walking in to the kitchen and turned towards them. Her. It was Summer.

"It was nice meeting you! I'm sure I'll see you around!" He tried to give a little smile and held his hand up in a wave, without really responding. Girls were easy. Much easier than scrawny teenage boys who were suddenly his brother. Or men who never shut up, yet still say nothing, who were suddenly his father.

Now that his girlfriend was gone, would it be easier or harder to hang out with Seth? He walked into the living room to find out. By the time he actually looked over to him, he had his video game paused and was staring at Ryan. Ryan was never comfortable being stared at. He looked away first.

"Do you wanna play?" He looked back. This time Seth was looking away.

"Sure."

* * *

Sandy walked back to the house holding an overstuffed dufflebag. Ryan wasn't already holed up in his room. That was a good sign. They were going to need to decorate or something if he was going to be living with them from now on. What did he like? Seth's walls were covered with band posters. Was Ryan into music? Or sports? He sighed. Decorating could wait.

He heard talking coming from the living room. He hoped Seth wasn't transferring the hard time he was having onto Ryan. It didn't sound angry. It was quiet. He snuck up to the doorway and peaked in.

They were both sprawled out on separate couches with controllers in their hands, staring at the TV. Ryan said something. Seth smiled at whatever it was he had said, Ryan was still so quiet, and started talking. Sandy smiled as he watched his son's mouth move a mile a minute. Having a normal Seth around was sure to help Ryan adjust faster instead of the quiet, confused Seth that had been walking around for the past 48 hours.

"Seth." He immediately regretted his interruption. Ryan stopped looking at the TV, stopped maneuvering the buttons on the controller, and was staring at Sandy's feet. Waiting? Sandy didn't want to know what for. "I'm going out. Keep an eye on your sister."

"Yeah sure." Seth didn't even glance up at his father. "Dude. I just killed you like four times."

"You boys have fun." Sandy hoped that watching how unafraid Seth was around him would help Ryan relax.


	10. Chapter 10

Ryan didn't know too much about video games. He had played some when he was younger and spent a lot of time at his friends' houses during the summer. When Ryan was thirteen they had moved from Fresno to Chino, leaving the few friends he had had behind. The kids his age in the new neighborhood were either involved with gangs or had parents who wouldn't let them hang out with the weird quiet kid with the crazy older brother.

The video games Seth had were much more complicated than the ones he had played years before. Ryan wasn't sure if it was easy to be really good at the games and he was just an odd –and terrible—exception or if Seth spent a lot of time playing them. The guy had a beautiful girlfriend. How much time did he really have to play video games?

Between his excitement for all the different games he wanted Ryan to play and his expertise in every one of them, Ryan could tell that Seth must have spent a lot of time playing. But getting his ass kicked at video games was much less stressful than getting his ass kicked in any other way Ryan was used to.

As weird as it felt to Ryan, he thought that Seth liked him. The constant rambling and the fact that Seth didn't seem to get bored even after hours of playing with him could mean something completely different, but Ryan couldn't figure out exactly what. Rosie, on the other hand, seemed completely uninterested. When she woke up from her nap, she brought down a couple of dolls and sat off to the side with a myriad of other toys and mumbled to herself. Even though he was pretty sure it was normal for little kids to talk to themselves while playing, he wondered if anyone in this family's mouth ever stopped moving.

* * *

Sandy seriously considered skipping his meeting and going straight to his wife's office. He knew she wasn't pleased with the situation they were in. Hell, Sandy wasn't pleased with the situation they were in. He had told Kirsten everything that had happened in the short time they were apart as soon as they were back together. That had been difficult enough, but throwing in the fact that a child had come from the situation and that suddenly Sandy was solely responsible for the child and that Sandy had to pick up the child from prison… He was surprised she was still speaking to him.

Despite how angry she was with him, all he wanted to do was talk to her, share everything he had learned about his long lost son. He didn't even care if she was too angry to comfort him, he just needed to be around her. After distractedly powering through a boring meeting, he finally made it to see her.

"Hey." She didn't sound happy but at least she was speaking to him. "Where is he?"

"At home."

"With the kids?"

"Honey, you know I wouldn't leave them alone if I didn't think it was safe." She sighed.

"I know. It's just… Did you find out anything else about him?"

* * *

Ryan wasn't sure how long they had been playing video games or if Seth was ever going to want to stop. Could he just tell Seth he wanted to stop and take a break?

Rosie had gotten to take a nap, when would it be Ryan's turn? Sure he was past the age where it was normal for him to have naptime, but he had missed sleep. Being locked up, he didn't sleep much. He was always surrounded by loud and potentially dangerous other boys and guards. Even when he was locked up in solitary, he heard constant screaming and yelling coming from the other cells.

Plus, he loved that bed. He hadn't gotten time to fully appreciate it the night before. He had been so tired that he had passed out right away. The idea of lying in a bed that comfortable surrounded by silence was like paradise. He had had playing games with Seth and he was happy that Seth somehow didn't seem to hate him, but he was ready to be alone again.

He tried waiting for a perfect moment to tell Seth he wanted to go lay down. Having no idea what that perfect moment would have looked like, Ryan had no idea if there was one and he just missed it. Forty-five minutes after deciding he wanted to go lay down, Seth got up to put in yet another game. It seemed like good a time as any.

"I actually think I'm gonna go lay down."

"What? Yeah. Sure. In that case, I'm going to skip this game, put it aside, save it for later when we play again. And I'm gonna put in Minecraft because really, it's kind of embarrassing and kind of a solo player thing."

"Cool." Seth continued talking, but Ryan figured he had properly excused himself enough to walk out of the room.

* * *

By the time Sandy was done telling Kirsten everything he had learned, she was comforting him. He was relieved not only that she didn't seem to be angry anymore, but also that he had gotten everything off of his chest.

Hearing her say that it all wasn't his fault made him almost believe it. Deep down he knew that the chance of him conceiving a child on a one night stand was improbable and that there was no reason to follow up with a complete stranger he had met in a bar, but Ryan's life just seemed so sad. He couldn't help but think of how different his life would have been if Sandy and Kirsten had raised him.

"So you really think he's not even a little bit dangerous? Growing up with all of that violence?"

"I doubt it. I think he's just terrified. You know, I doubt there was ever a moment in his life when he wasn't terrified. I just wonder if he did it all because he knew that Ryan wasn't his."

"That should have nothing to do with it. No one should treat anyone like that. Much less a poor defenseless child! And what kind of mother would let that happen to her son? I just can't believe it. But it's going to be okay. He's with us now." Sandy smiled to himself. Not only at the prospect of Ryan finally being safe, but that his wife had already accepted him into their home.


	11. Chapter 11

Ryan thought he would be able to lay in his nice, big room alone with the door locked and enjoy the time by himself. Unfortunately, it was only minutes after lying down that he fell right back asleep. When he woke back up the clock on the bedside table said 6:12. Was it AM or PM? There wasn't much light shining through the window. Was the sun just going down or just coming up?

Maybe that wasn't even the right time. What time had it been when he had escaped Seth's incessant chatter? He hadn't looked. He didn't really care. Surely no one had really noticed him missing. He was probably better off out of the way. The new plan of staying hidden fell, though, when his stomach started growling and the pain in his body grew sharp. How was he supposed to relax and enjoy comfort with an empty stomach and broken bones? Ryan looked at the two options laid before him. He could continue to lay alone in the silence or he could leave the room, make his way to the kitchen, and deal with whatever stood in his way. If he chose the latter option, how long would it be before he would be able to be alone again?

He decided to ignore his pains for a little longer.

* * *

Sandy wondered if Ryan was still sleeping. When he had asked Seth what time Ryan had gone upstairs, he of course gave no real answer. The real word had a habit of vanishing when his son played video games. This meant that Ryan had been up in his room for somewhere between two to five hours. Either way, it was a long nap. Probably too long.

But maybe he had just been hanging out up there alone. Doing what? What had his mother left him? Sandy assumed it was just clothes, but what if there were drugs or something? Would a mother really leave her son drugs? No, but whatever that woman was, she was not a mother. A mother would never let her son get hurt the way Ryan had been hurt.

They were about to order dinner, but Sandy had no idea what Ryan liked. He still hadn't asked him if he was allergic to anything. Was he a vegetarian? Ryan didn't seem like a picky eater. He wondered if Ryan would eat anything Sandy put in front of him. As much as he was uncomfortable with how uncomfortable Ryan was around him, he decided to look on the bright side. Ryan would eat no matter what Sandy ordered. He wouldn't starve tonight and Sandy would find out more about Ryan's eating habits sooner rather than later. Maybe they could order Ryan's favorite food to make him feel more comfortable in the house. But for now, Sandy ordered a large variety of Chinese food and hoped Ryan would find something he liked.

* * *

Ryan wasn't sure if his hunger was giving him the headache or if it was his brain being overwhelmed by the pain in his knee and ribs and wrist. He finally got so miserable sitting in pain that the prospect of going downstairs seemed like the better option. Just as he reached the stairs, his new father appeared at the bottom.

"Hey kid. I was just about to come get you. Dinner's here. We got Chinese." Ryan simply stared at the man. Maybe leaving the room wasn't worth the incessant talking. Instead of responding, he willed the older man to just walk away so he could walk down the stairs in peace. Sandy opened his mouth again, shut it without saying anything, and then walked away.

Ryan let out the breath he had been holding in and began his slow trek downward. Of course, the talking started up again the second he walked into the kitchen.

"Your painkillers are over here. I assume you need some now?" Ryan nodded gratefully and took the pills that were handed to him. "You can take them every four hours if you really need to. I'll leave them up here for you so you can grab them whenever you need them."

Ryan managed to get out a small 'thanks.' There had to be some kind of catch there. They didn't really seem like the kind of people who would steal his pills or switch out the real painkillers for candy like his other parents would have. If these people wanted painkillers, they could probably just buy them themselves. Would they be monitoring them? Ryan didn't really see why they would care so much. Maybe they didn't care if he overdosed or became addicted and so they really didn't care about giving him full access to the pills.

* * *

Sandy tried not to stare as Ryan slowly filled his plate with chicken fried rice. The poor kid could barely stand. He waited for Ryan to pick up his plate to grab it from him.

"Here, let me take that for you." He tried to do it slowly, but Ryan still jerked back at Sandy being so close. Sandy ignored it and walked to the table, sharing a look with Kirsten along the way.

The dinner conversation was, as always, monopolized by Seth. Rosie went back and forth between being off in her own head and loudly interrupting Seth to throw in her own two cents. Ryan stared down at his plate, at the table, at the centerpiece, anything but the people sitting around him. While Sandy wished he would feel comfortable enough to join in the conversation, he was simply glad that he was eating.

When the conversation got back around to video games, Seth threw Ryan's name into the conversation. Sandy tried to use it as an opportunity to get Ryan to talk. He wasn't sure if Seth had just finally gotten hungry enough to stop talking and fill his mouth with food or if he had sensed that it would be a good time for Ryan to speak, but either way, Seth silenced.

"Do you like video games, Ryan?" Ryan froze for a few seconds and then nodded his head. He looked so uncomfortable that Sandy immediately felt bad for putting the attention on him.

"Why don't you ever talk?" Sandy opened his mouth to chastise his youngest, but Kirsten had it covered.

"Rosie, Ryan can talk as much or as little as he wants to." Rosie dropped the subject, Seth began talking again, and Ryan visibly relaxed.


End file.
